A revelation ...

Just to show how much more optimistic  I can feel after a decent sleep, perhaps all my recent anxieties can be put down to fatigue?

Thursday night was awful, the now all too traditional bedlam that often greets staff starting at 7pm rather than 9.20pm. The children are very much still awake and many jobs remain to be done, it's a full-on start to a shift. At best it usually doesn't calm until midnight, so I often have five hours of mania running from one child to the next and never really feeling on top. Frequently it never calms and you depart racked with anxiety at the things you've neglected or simply forgotten.

It's only now that I can write about the night; it felt so terrible at the time and I felt so betrayed that this is allowed to take place (that it's seen as acceptable) that I couldn't be rational in recording what was going on. 

I'd had minimal sleep in the day, sometimes you just can't catch it and the more you lay there not sleeping the more anxious you become ... and the less likely it is that you'll sleep (the vicious circle of day sleeping before the first night). 

So the ward felt utterly ferocious from beginning to end. It's hard enough staying awake all night after minimal sleep at the best of times, adrenaline carries you through initially, but when the ward calms down and those bursts of adrenaline reduce you really crash. 

I was utterly exhausted when I left in the morning, the drive home a bit of a blur, consequently when I got in I zonked out completely. I have a vague recollection of waking at midday (the alarm clock of a full bladder), concerned that I wasn't sleeping particularly well ...

Awoke with a sudden start at 4.30pm (pretty late for me) feeling utterly dreadful; disorientated, nauseous and anxious. It's hard to turn myself around in an hour and a half before a night; just to eat, shower, dress  and normalise. The night shift comes on me very quickly and I don't really feel prepared. Ideally I like to wake around an hour earlier, gather myself, sit around in my pants. 

Friday night was better; the ward was just as busy, the demands as great, the work load as heavy and the skill mix as poor, yet it seemed oddly manageable. I didn't get stressed and I didn't feel overtly anxious; I can only equate with this with me being rested and consequently coping with the stress and bedlam more adequately.